Tag Archives: aging

I turn 35 this weekend. I’m feeling uncomfortable with that. So I decided to have a sit down with 35 and talk it out. Yes, it’s odd, talking to an age. But, you know, it’s a humor blog, we can do that here.

Excerpts:

Me: So, 35, it’s nice to meet you. Well, sort of.

35: You too, sort of. By the way, interesting move choosing yourself to be the one in BOLD. We can analyze that later.

Looking forward to it. I’m hoping you can give me some insight into why I feel so uncomfortable with you. You’re not that old. Still, I think of myself as being much younger than you. Even though I am at this very moment using a heating pad. What’s up with how awkward I am with you?

You should really consider starting these interviews with something less insulting. But you are way ahead of the curve. Most people don’t freak out until they hit 40.

See, that’s part of the problem. I like to be impressive. 35 is not impressive. No offense. Anything I achieve in my career now won’t come off as “wow, that YOUNG woman did that.” It’s going to be, “yeah that lady over there—hey someone brought in cookies!”

What?

Or if I change careers, I’ll be that brave middle-aged woman who redefined her priorities. Ugh.

Do you have any idea how lame you sound?

Yes.

Besides, you became old at 29, when you had that kid of yours.

I am something of a prudish party pooper. But this year, all of a sudden, systems started failing. I mean, I hurt both my knees when I decided to try pilates. Not DOING pilates, just when I decided to try. What’s that about?

Not so long ago, a person your age would be pretty close to having grandkids. In a more basic human environment you’d probably be fairly near death.

Thank you, that helps a lot. You’re just like everyone else I know. Nobody has any sympathy for me. I’m now technically old enough to be president of the United States — I can’t even get the cats off the kitchen counter! I’m a failure.

Have you considered therapy?

For my failure?

For your INSANITY.

Does that happen when you get old?

Never mind. Are you using wrinkle cream?

Hey, I’m asking questions! I’m in a whole other marketing segment now. No more 25-34. There are people in their 40s in my demographic. What on earth do I have in common with them?

You arrrrrrre married to someone in his 40s.

…True. And 25-year-olds are typically baffling to me. All ramen-eating and bar-hopping.

And weirded out when you call them ‘honey’ and mean it in a maternal way.

Shut up. Maggie Gyllenhaal was born the same year as me. She’s awesome!

So was Brittany Murphy. She’s dead.

You know what, I think I’m just past all this. I’m beyond caring about my birthday.

Really? ‘Cause it seems like you care.

What should one be reading at 35? Because right now I’m reading Jane Eyre for the first time, along with 50 Shades of Grey and a manual about being a trustee for a nonprofit. And I’m preferring Jane and the trustees to Mr. Grey. Is that because of my advancing years?

That doesn’t doesn’t reflect your age. It reflects your general weirdness. At least you’re not reading parenting books anymore. Gave up on that, eh?

What, she’s 5, I got her through the “most important developmental years.” …I’m of “advanced maternal age” now, you know.